The Medic
by WhiteStar the Undecided
Summary: All she had wanted to do was help. That's all she wanted. And because of it, her optics were opened to the truth in the lies she had been fed. Her allies were now her enemies, and those she had once feared she now stitched together without question. She had her purpose, she had her revenge. But, is it what she really wanted? Was there more to it? There couldn't be. Could there?


Rated Mature for violence, language, and minor cruelty. If such becomes either heavily detailed or graphic, a warning will be mentioned at the beginning of the chapter as well as that section.

I don't own Transformers or TFP. I do own any OC's and the plot. Please tune in for Chapter 2; expected to be posted within the next few days. My thanks.

-WhiteStar

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><p><em>I swear to keep according to my ability and my judgment, the following Oath and agreement…<em>

_I will prescribe regimens for the good of my patients according to my ability and my judgment and never do harm to anyone…_

_I will give no deadly medicine to any one if asked, nor suggest any such counsel…_

_But I will preserve the purity of my life and my arts…._

_In every house where I come I will enter only for the good of my patients, keeping myself far from all intentional ill-doing and all seduction and especially from the pleasures of love with women or men, be they free or slaves…._

_All that may come to my knowledge in the exercise of my profession or in daily commerce with men, which ought not to be spread abroad, I will keep secret and will never reveal._

_If I keep this oath faithfully, may I enjoy my life and practice my art, respected by all humanity and in all times; but if I swerve from it or violate it, may the reverse be my life._

All I had ever wanted was to help others. Mech or femme, all I wanted was to be able to help them. Soothe their pain, heal their wounds. Be there for them when they needed me most and return them to the land of the fully functioning.

Clichéd, isn't it?

I was hardly more than a youngling when the war began; when the sides were chosen, when friends were lost, when families were broken. My sire had come home in a fuss, whispering furiously to my carrier which seemed to upset her greatly. To this cycle I couldn't tell you what it was they were talking about, but I can state with ease that whatever it was had shattered what held my family together. Carrier had drawn her gun on Sire, screaming about lords and truth. Sire had tried to calm her, but all she did was aim for his spark as she screeched and shrieked how wrong he was. This was the last I ever saw of my Carrier. Sire had scooped me up like nothing being the large mech he was and carried me from the home I had known since birth. He told me Carrier had been poisoned, tainted by lies and had finally fallen beyond his reach, beyond his help. When I had asked what happened to her, all I received was the growl of a name. A name I would soon hear more often than not.

Megatron.

My carrier had been amongst the thousands that had become tainted by his word and flock to his guidance to become his army. His Decepticons. Sire had told me that they were all cruel, sparkless, and wouldn't hesitate to hurt me if they ever got ahold of me. More so considering I was such a young little femme.

That was the day that I lost my Carrier to the Decepticons, and my Sire and I were welcomed into the ranks of the Autobots. Sire had said that they stood for truth and freedom, not dominance and tyranny. Sire had said that they were good and kind; that they protected any and all who needed them. Sire had said the Autobots never judged you for what you looked like, who your family was, or where you were from.

Sire was wrong.

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><p>"<em>Good morning my dearest. Ah, ah, now none of that. I just replaced those bindings the last orbital cycle. Do try not to wear them down too much now dearest, won't you?"<em>

_He could feel the femme's optics burning into him, focusing on the patches she had placed the previous orn to see if they were holding and not being rejected by his frame. Despite being well used to it after so many vorns, that still didn't stop the shudder that went down his spinal strut from the way she was observing him. He was a toy to her, something to play with when she was bored, and someone to listen to as she forced unimaginable agony upon him. She took pride in reminding him just why he was there. Just why he had been strapped down and lost to the world beyond her medical bay. Part of him wondered if he really did deserve the price he was paying for his mistake, while the rest had resigned himself to suffering through the pain he had caused the young medic; both physical and the ache of his betrayal. He couldn't even remember seeing the femme before he had taken her down. Though he did know she had changed since her turn coating. The once pale blue frame had become off white, accented by burgundy on her servos, heeled pedes, lower leg plating, and the two long crests that began as one upon the front of her helm before they separated, curling along it before spiking wickedly into the air in an arch. Her insignias had been placed just behind the bases of her wrists, the left baring that of her faction, the right her profession. _

"_What's wrong dearest? Not feeling talkative today?"_

_Talkative? Not on his spark. He had learned that lesson enough for one lifetime. Optics dimming, he remained silent as the medic attached a new energon drip to his arm, most likely to replace all that he had lost the previous cycle. To be honest, he wouldn't have noticed the incoming message had it not been for the pause in her morning check-up routine. The screen was just in his line of sight and as soon as the call had been accepted he sincerely wished that he hadn't noticed at all. _

"_My Lord; a pleasant surprise this dreadful morning. How may I be of assistance?"_

_Sometimes he wondered if the sharp tone she used when speaking to the warlord was venom left over from her time as an Autobot, or some strange form of flirting. Or it could just be because he doubted most of her sanity when it came to dealing with others. Either way._

"_Of course My Lord. I have enough stored fuel to make the trip without stopping for restocking, allowing an arrival date well within half a stellar cycle. At worst. My arrival should coincide with your own, My Lord. I shall be sure to have my bay ready for you. Not that I doubt whomever is stationed upon the ship now, but I prefer to trust my own diagnosis, rather than another's."_

_As the transmission ended he could almost feel the toxic mixture of distaste and eagerness that flowed from the femme in waves. This could either be very good for him, or very bad…_

"_Well, well my dearest. It appears we've been given an official decree by the Master. An intriguing one at best. Off to a tiny hole in the wall planet, it appears. Earth…hmm…Well, I suggest you get some rest, we've got quite the long way to go and you'll need your strength."_

…_._

_Bad….very…very…bad…_


End file.
